


If I Say

by stillusesapencil



Series: Javid's indie playlist [8]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:15:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25147567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillusesapencil/pseuds/stillusesapencil
Summary: “Look, I. I just want you to know that I mean it, and I’ve always meant it--I love you."In the end, it’s up to them. Neither of them have cleaner hands, Davey knows. And neither of them can remedy this. Maybe, just maybe, they’ve fucked up too bad to repair. And maybe there’s nothing they can do.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: Javid's indie playlist [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616590
Kudos: 30





	If I Say

**Author's Note:**

> [If I Say](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DQlKBajgBe4) by Mumford and Sons

Jack is home and safe; this David knows. He also knows Jack is working, and he knows what Jack ate for lunch, and he knows lots and lots about Jack’s daily routine. 

The problem is, they do a lot of talking and say very little. David wonders how long they can go on like this. 

Probably not very long.

“Hey, Mouth,” Spot greets as he slumps through the apartment.

“Hey, Spot,” he mumbles, and snags a La Croix from the fridge. He’d drink something stronger, and god knows in previous times the fridge would have been well stocked for it, but Race is working on pieces of his obsessive personality, so alcohol is limited.

“What’s got you all down in the mouth?”

David sighs, sitting down. 

“Missing Jack?”

“Yes...no...kinda.”

Spit rolls his eyes. “That ain’t an answer.”

David takes another sip of the faintly lime fizz. “Jack asked me to move in with him?”

“In Santa Fe?”

“Yeah.”

Muttering you’re himself, Spot sighs and hauls himself off the couch. When he returns, he has a bottle of whiskey.

“Where’d you get that?”

“I keep it in one of the bottom cabinets Race never bends to look in. For special occasions only. I’m pretty sure this counts.” He pours them both a generous amount.

David takes a sip and exhales at the burn. 

Spot takes a swallow, too, not even flinching. “Jack’s an idiot,” he says flatly. “I mean, look at him, he’s living off ramen in an apartment he shares with three people he met on Craigslist, and he wants you to leave behind this--?” he waves a hand at their own apartment, the cobwebs in the corners and the rips in the carpet. 

“I can’t leave Les, I can’t leave my dad, I--” David tips his head back on the couch. 

“You’re not a bad person if you turn him down.”

“I already did.”

Spot just takes another sip of whiskey.

“I just--I don’t know if we can keep doing this.” 

Spot watches him, steady and silent.

“We’re so far apart, and I barely get to see him, and it seems like we never get to spend real time together.”

The ice clinks in Spot’s glass.

“It feels...it feels forced,” David says finally, shutting his eyes against tears. “It doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to.”

“But do you love him?”

“Yes,” David answers, sure and easy. “With all my heart.”

“Then you gotta figure it out.”

“I should probably call him,” he says, and sets down his glass to make his way to his room and shut the door. 

Jack picks up on the first ring. “Hello darlin’!”

“Hey, Jack.” He swallows. 

“What’s going on?” His voice has changed, instantly softer and more tender.

“I know we haven’t talked about it, but I want to make sure we’re on the same page.” He takes a deep, steadying breath. “I can’t move to Santa Fe.” 

There’s a pause, and when he speaks again, there’s an edge of tears in Jack’s voice. “I know. You can’t be that brave.”

The words hit Davey like a slap. “Bravery has nothing to do with it, Jack! Les is getting ready to graduate high school, and my dad still can’t work a lot--I can’t leave my family now, they need me!”

“ _ I _ need you!” 

Davey wants to weep at the broken crack and edge forming in his heart from Jack’s voice. “Jack, I--I want to be with you. This is hard, and it’s not fair, and I wish I could do more--”

“Then do more!”

“You’re the one who left! You left us! Charlie and Race and Spot! You left--you left me.” That wasn’t fair, and Davey knows it. He said it anyway. 

Jack sniffs. “I know.” 

“Jack, I--I’m sorry. You’re doing what you’ve always wanted. You should feel free to pursue your dreams.”

There’s a sigh. “You’re my dream, Davey.”

Then the tears come, pressing hot and fast at the back of Davey’s eyes. He imagines Jack, standing in his room, paint spattered on his skin and clothes, the playfulness gone from his eyes and replaced by something sad and desperate.

“You know I--I can’t come home, yet, the internship’s not up yet.”

“I know.”

“So what are we going to do?” 

“I don’t know.” They sit in silence for a while, and then Davey says, “Look, I. I just want you to know that I mean it, and I’ve always meant it--I love you. I love you, Jack, and that means I want the best for you. And if that’s not--if something needs to change, then we should do something.” 

“What can we do?” Jack asks, exhausted.

“I don’t know.” Davey nearly cries. 

In the end, it’s up to them. Neither of them have cleaner hands, Davey knows. And neither of them can remedy this. Maybe, just maybe, they’ve fucked up too bad to repair. And maybe there’s nothing they can do. 

Over the soft static of the phone, Davey hears Jack whisper, “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> One more part, folks. Don't give up yet.


End file.
